Chapter 67 (1) - The Mysterious Art Museum

Chapter 67 (1) - The Mysterious Art Museum

Minyoung's business acumen was exceptional.

Two days before the opening of Irina's concert tickets.

The theater's ceiling painting was completed, and with the board's approval, Minyoung invited about a hundred journalists to the theater.

Overwhelmed by the grand Baroque-style interior of the theater's lobby, the journalists were busy taking pictures. Standing in front of the theater's inner doors, Minyoung spoke into the microphone.

Thank you to the journalists who have come from afar. I am Yoo Minyoung, the representative of W Tree Hannam.

Instead of applause, a myriad of flashes went off.

Dressed in a suit as instructed, I stood next to her, feeling comfortable in my newly tailored suit.

'I did well entrusting Monica with this.'

Monica, originally a designer of men's luxury fashion.

Though my hands trembled at the price of over two million won for a single suit, I went through with it, considering Minyoung's words about frequently facing the media in the future.

Italian luxury truly lives up to its reputation.

It's not just wearing clothes, but the feeling of the clothes embracing me.

Uncomfortable yet beautiful clothes tend to cling to the body, while comfortable ones are often loose-fitting. This suit, however, fits snugly while feeling as if I'm not wearing anything.

When I first received it, I thought, 'What's the difference from a suit bought in Dongdaemun?' But once I wore it, I realized it's a different level. Even with the same design, the fit around the body feels significantly different.

Minyoung gestured towards the theater and spoke.

Our new theater, Catacombs, will be a refuge protecting true art from all dangers of the world, much like the early Christians who fled persecution to underground tombs during the Roman Empire.

All I did was hold a microphone and explain for about ten minutes, but I felt completely drained.

Dealing with people is truly the hardest thing.

After the journalists left, I crouched on a secluded bench in the theater lobby. Young-ju approached me. She always worked in a suit at the Seoul City Art Museum, so her dressed-up appearance seemed less awkward than mine.

"Were you very nervous?"

"Yeah, I felt like dying. I really admire you. How can you speak so naturally in front of so many people?"

"I also struggled at first, but you get used to it."

I wonder if I'll have to do this kind of thing often.

Thinking about it, I can't understand how artists like Andy Warhol, who always had journalists following them, could focus on their creative work. Even this brief interaction was so draining for me.

I spoke, pressing one eye shut.

"How about the others?"

"They were told to come to Hongdae by seven."

Three months of work.

Yesterday marked the last day of the long project. It was also the last day of work for the juniors.

Today is the final day of the grand journey, a day to relax, loosen the belt, eat, and drink comfortably.

At least there's a comforting schedule behind.

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